Chapter 1
The brilliant midday sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse bridal suite, bathing the room in a crisp, cinematic light. The colors of the room were vivid and pristine—stark white floral arrangements, plush crimson velvet seating, and the gleaming silver of the vanity mirrors. Giulietta Marconi stood perfectly still in the center of the light. At twenty-five, she was breathtakingly attractive by every American standard of beauty. Her fair, rosy skin practically glowed against the intricate lace and cascading silk of her luxurious bridal gown. Heavy diamond earrings caught the sunlight, throwing fractured rainbows across the walls.
She was adjusting the diamond engagement ring on her finger when the heavy mahogany door clicked shut. The distinct, metallic slide of the deadbolt locking echoed loudly in the quiet suite.
Giulietta did not jump. She merely shifted her gaze to the vanity mirror, watching the reflection of her fiancé.
Preston Hale stood by the door. At thirty-nine, he was handsome in a rigid, deeply privileged way, dressed in formal wedding trousers and a crisp, perfectly tailored dress shirt. A luxury watch gleamed on his wrist, and his polished leather shoes squeaked faintly against the hardwood. But it was not his attire that caught Giulietta’s attention. It was the heavy, polished metal golf club he held loosely in his right hand.
"Are we planning on hitting the green before the ceremony, Preston?" Giulietta asked, her voice smooth, composed, and devoid of any panic. Her American accent was sharp, carrying the quiet authority of a woman who had grown up in boardrooms and backroom meetings.
"The ceremony isn't for another hour," Preston replied, his tone dripping with a sudden, suffocating arrogance. He took a slow step into the room, tapping the head of the golf club against his polished shoe. "I thought we needed to establish a few ground rules before we walk down that aisle, Giulietta."
"Ground rules," Giulietta repeated, turning slowly to face him. The heavy silk of her gown rustled softly. "I was under the impression that our lawyers had already finalized the parameters of this union."
"The lawyers handled the money," Preston sneered, taking another step forward, effectively cornering her beside the vanity. The bright light caught the cruel, mocking twist of his lips. "I am handling the domestic arrangements. You carry yourself with a little too much pride, Giulietta. My father and I have noticed. You look at me not as a husband, but as a business partner. That ends today."
May you like
"Does it?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"It does," Preston said, raising the metal golf club slightly, letting the threat hang heavy in the bright, colorful room. "I need a wife who understands her place. A woman who knows how to lower her eyes when the men are talking."
